The Phantom's Angel
by ThePhantom'strueAngelofMusic
Summary: My first fic ever, so please be kind!  Just Erik's point of view at the end. Please Review!


The Phantom's Angel

"You try my patience! Make your choice." Erik hissed, leaning his face close to Christine's. He noticed that salty tears coated her porcelain cheeks. A surge of guilt ran up his spine.

_I didn't want to make her cry. But I have to know. I need her. I can't live without her._..He thought, trying to justify his actions to himself. He had to know. He stood, and turned his away from the weeping angel on the floor, shifting his fingers in nervousness and guilt.

Silence. And then-

"Pitiful creature of darkness, what kind of life have you known?" Christine sang quietly, knowing the way to the Phantom's heart. She stood.

"God give me courage to show you, you are not alone!" Erik turned as she placed her hand on his shoulder, only to be shocked when she crushed her lips against his, standing on her toes to reach high enough. He couldn't return the kiss-he couldn't do anything. He was too stunned. His hands shook as he placed them over hers at the side of his unmasked face.

_She's lying. She pities me, she doesn't love me. She's only kissing me to save Raoul. He's the one she loves. I can't make her lie. I can't do this to my angel of music. _

He gently pushed her away, breaking their connection, unwilling to continue the lie she was making to save her lover. Erik brushed his hand against the side of his face, the deformities taking odd textures. He briefly remembered her resting her hands on his head as she kissed him. He glanced back at her, staring at him with an unreadable expression.

_This is for you, Christine, my angel. I love you. _

He lit a new candle from one of the many blazing brightly in the dark chamber and walked over to the man who held his angel's heart, a noose of rope around his neck. He stopped struggling as the Phantom approached. Using all his willpower, Erik burned away the lasso in one swift and fluid movement. Raoul fell to the ground, gasping for air. Erik put the candle down and helped him up.

"Take her, forget me, forget all of this." He commanded. The mob from outside grew louder as Raoul ran to where Christine was standing.

"Take the boat! Swear to me never to tell what you know of the angel in hell!" He cried, glancing around nervously. They ran without another word, not even a goodbye from his angel.

Finally, emotion overcame him, and he fell to the steps, sobbing.

Suddenly the music box that sat beside him started to play a familiar tune. "Masquerade." He sang feebly, all passion drained from his body. "Put your faces on parade. Masquerade. Hide your face...so the world...won't ever find you..." He choked the last words out, the significance to his situation crashing down hard on him.

He sensed a presence behind him, and turned, expecting someone from the mob. Instead, it was Christine, her face still shining with tears, her hand outstretched, offering him back the ring he had put on her finger earlier. He took it, the plain band still warm from her body heat.

"Christine, I love you." He forced out.

Her face changed, contorting in emotional pain. She bent her head to his hand, and started to walk away, but paused on the stairs to glance back at him. He nodded. Erik knew that she couldn't stay with him.

She left, but he could still hear her and the Raoul singing the soft words of a love song together.

"Say you'll share with me one love, one lifetime." She sang quietly.

"Say the word and I will follow you." Responded Raoul.

As they faded into the background and eventually into silence, the Phantom knelt to the floor, pressing the veil that Christine had been wearing to his cheek, and then his malformed lips.

"You alone can make my song take flight. It's over now, the music of the night!" he sang passionately, standing and dropping the veil. This was the end of the Phantom of the Opera, and he knew it. But not of the Angel of Music. That would live on through Christine, he knew.

His angel. His life.

Gone.

He would not plague this world anymore (which he thought he did), not without Christine's love to keep him alive. The Phantom was gone, but the Phantom's Angel would live on, happy. And he supposed that would have to be enough, even though he couldn't help but wish that maybe once in a while she'd remember him and think of him as fondly as she could.

_Think of me  
>think of me fondly, when<br>we've said goodbye  
>remember me<br>once in a while, please  
>promise me you'll try…<br>_


End file.
